Page 185 of A Taste of Vanilla

I slip through the door before he can respond, smiling so hard it hurts.

When I get to the front counter, Marley looks up immediately from her table.

Her eyes narrow. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

She studies my face. “You’re lying.”

I pick up my towel and wipe down the counter with the focused dignity of a woman who was absolutely not just pinned against the side of her bakery by her best friend’s older brother.

“Your brother likes coconut lattes,” I admit.

Marley gasps so loudly that Dev drops a stack of napkins.

“He what?”

“Large ones.”

Her mouth falls open, and Dev clutches a napkin to his chest. “The black coffee empire has fallen.”

From the kitchen, I hear Warren say, “Halston!”

Every part of me goes warm.

Marley’s eyes grow wide. “Oh my god. Why did hejust say your name like that?”

I think on my feet. “Because he’s embarrassed.”

Marley’s brows furrow. “About the latte?”

I nod solemnly.

I wipe the same spot again and bite back a smile.

Maybe sweetness alone can’t sustain a legacy.

But it can start a delicious fight.

sixteen

. . .

Health Code Violations and Emotional Progress

WARREN

The bakery isquiet after closing.

The front lights are dimmed as the sun sets outside. The pastry case is clean, and three boxes are stacked neatly on the counter with leftover pastries for me, Marley, and Oliver. Halston ate hers while standing over the sink.

The chalkboard still says,

VANILLA PROOF

BANANA-VANILLA CREAM, LAMINATED PASTRY, TOASTED SUGAR

PLAYFUL IS STILL EXCELLENT